The Redmarsh Vale was no place for patrols. Thick fog hung low, muting every sound. Mud sucked at boots. Twisted roots threatened to trip the unprepared. The Imperial squad, eleven strong, marched through the veil with wary eyes and blades unsheathed. They were imperial soldiers, sent by the Knight Council to find a missing Captain—a peak-stage Awakening Realm warrior named Elric. But even the bravest among them felt the chill.
Imperial Captain Halric, a broad-shouldered man with a dark beard and a sharp gaze, raised his fist.
"Hold."
The squad froze.
"Something wrong?" asked Darek, the youngest, bow in hand.
"Everything. This place stinks of death."
A sharp whistle broke the quiet. One of their scouts.
Halric turned. A figure stumbled from the mist—the scout—his body skewered with three arrows. He collapsed at Halric's feet, gurgling blood.
"AMBUSH! SHIELDS UP!"
The fog exploded. Bandits charged from all directions. Not common raiders. These wore armor, moved in sync, struck without hesitation.
Steel clashed. Screams followed.
Halric's axe met the first bandit mid-leap, cleaving through flesh and bone. Blood sprayed. Another attacker lunged; Halric pivoted, burying his axe into the man's spine.
"TO ME! FORM ON ME!" he shouted.
The squad tightened formation. Shields locked. Spears out. But the bandits kept coming.
Darek loosed three arrows, each hitting its mark. "They fight like trained men!"
"Because they are!" barked Halric. He caught a blade on his shield and smashed the attacker's face with his elbow. Teeth flew.
Garron, the squad's strongest, swung a massive hammer. It crushed a skull. He laughed, wild with adrenaline. "Is this all you dogs have?!"
"Behind you!" Darek cried.
Too late. A spear slid under Garron's ribs. He grunted, spun, and took three down with him before falling to his knees. Blood bubbled from his mouth.
"Keep him alive! Pull him back!" Halric ordered.
Two soldiers dragged Garron back, defending with frantic slashes.
A roar tore through the battlefield. A brute emerged from the fog, half-naked and covered in tribal scars. He carried a cleaver-sized greatsword.
Halric narrowed his eyes. "That one's no normal man."
The brute slammed into the shield wall, sending two soldiers flying. One landed limp, neck broken. The other screamed as the brute's sword cleaved through his torso.
"Come on then!" Halric yelled, stepping forward. "You want blood? Take mine!"
The brute grinned. "Gladly."
Their weapons met in a thunderous clash. Sparks flew. The brute laughed. "You swing like a child."
Halric spat blood. "You smell like a corpse."
He ducked a wide swing and slashed the brute's thigh. Blood spilled, but the brute didn't flinch. He grabbed Halric by the shoulder and headbutted him. Stars exploded in Halric's vision.
Darek shot an arrow into the brute's back. "He's still standing?!"
The brute turned. "You again. I'll peel your skin."
Halric slammed his axe into the brute's ribs. "Not while I'm breathing."
The brute roared, bloodied but laughing.
Elsewhere, the squad was thinning. Five soldiers remained. Darek fought beside Lina, a fast-bladed scout. She gutted a bandit, spun, and blocked a sword meant for Darek.
"Stay alive, kid."
"Trying!" Darek parried, then stabbed low.
Halric broke from the brute and regrouped. "Fall back to the ridge! Move!"
"They'll run us down!" Lina shouted.
"Then we kill every last one that chases!"
They retreated uphill, leaving bodies in the muck. The bandits followed, relentless.
Halric stayed rear guard. The brute chased him, bleeding but grinning.
At the ridge, Halric turned. "Let's finish this."
The brute charged. Halric sidestepped, kicking mud into his eyes. He hacked downward, splitting the brute's arm. The greatsword fell.
"Got you."
"Not...yet."
The brute lunged barehanded. Halric slammed his axe into his throat. The giant dropped, choking.
Halric dropped to one knee, panting. Darek ran to him.
"He's dead. We're clear for now."
Halric looked around. Only four soldiers stood.
"We came for one man. Lost seven."
Lina wiped blood from her blade. "This wasn't a normal ambush. They knew we were coming."
Halric nodded. "Which means Captain Elric may still be alive. Or bait."
Darek kicked a bandit corpse. "Who are these bastards?"
Halric stared down the blood-soaked vale. "Not just bandits. Something worse."
The fog began to lift, revealing the full scale of the slaughter. Mud turned red. Limbs stuck out at odd angles. Arrows jutted from corpses like broken thorns.
Garron groaned, slumped against a tree. His armor was soaked in blood. Lina knelt beside him, pressing a heated dagger against the deep wound.
"Hold still."
"Burn it shut, damn you," he growled through clenched teeth. "I ain't dying in this mud."
Darek sat nearby, wrapping a torn cloth around his bleeding shoulder. His hand trembled. "That brute... he wasn't even the worst of them. Did you see how they moved?"
"Coordinated," Lina said. "Professionals. Not raiders."
Halric cleaned his axe with a scrap of cloth. His hands were slick with blood, not all of it his. His left arm was numb, his ribs ached from the brute's headbutt, and his vision blurred in his right eye.
He looked over the field again.
"We recover the bodies," he said.
"There's too many," Darek replied.
"We do what we can. We burn the rest. No Imperial blood rots in the dirt."
They moved slowly, dragging the fallen into a pile. Faces they knew. Comrades. Loren, whose jokes used to lighten the campfire. Brask, who was writing a letter to his son before they marched. One by one, they placed them with care.
Halric whispered an Imperial prayer. "May their blades be sharp in the afterlife."
The pyre was lit. Smoke rose into the gray sky.
Halric leaned on his axe. "The Knight Council must be warned. We were sent to find a missing captain. We found an ambush."
Garron coughed and spat blood. "You think Elric's still breathing?"
"I don't know. But someone wanted us dead before we could find out."
Lina glanced eastward. "We'll need horses. Supplies."
"We'll take what we can from the dead," Halric said. "But we leave before sundown. We won't survive a second night here."
Darek tightened his grip on his sword. "Next time... I want to be ready."
Halric gave a tired nod. "Then sharpen your will. Because this isn't over. Not by a long shot."
They limped away from the blood-drenched vale, the pyre burning behind them, lighting the fog like a torch to the dead.